reverence
by esmeaplatt
Summary: She held a power over him that she wasn't even aware of.


**reverence**

* * *

Carlisle paused as walked up the steps of their front porch, peering in through the window at her. She knew he was there, could tell by the slight quirk at the corner of her mouth. He could hear music coming from inside, Edward working on a new song as Esme stood in the middle of the room in front of her canvas. She had paint smudged on the front of her dress, a dark green staining the light blue of the material. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail with little pieces falling loose.

He shook his head, pushing his thoughts of Esme, of how positively beautiful she looked absorbed in her work, from his mind. For Edward's sake if anything. He wiped his feet on the rug Esme had laid down, lightly threatening he and Edward with living in the garage if they continued to track mud onto the floors she'd redone.

When he stepped through the door, Edward gave him a mildly annoyed look over his piano, letting Carlisle know that he had definitely heard him on the porch.

The doctor gave him an apologetic smile before turning his attention to Esme, getting a look at her painting. "This looks incredible." He told her, his eyes roaming over the scene in front of him, the small farm house surrounded by fields of green.

"Thank you." She replied, wiping her brush off before setting it aside.

"Was this your parents' farm?"

Esme shook her head. "No, it was my friend's. She lived a few minutes down the road." She reached behind herself, tugging at the knot in her apron.

"Let me." Carlisle reached for her, taking the knot into his hands when she turned for him. He worked carefully at the knot with practiced fingers, smiling when the strings slipped loose. "There you go."

"Thank you." She said with a smile, pulling the apron from around her waist and turning to face him. "I'll learn how to tie it behind my back without forming a knot one of these days."

Edward let out an amused smirk behind them, making him wonder, as he had countless times, what thought had just crossed Esme's mind. He knew how much his gift plagued him but there were times when he wished he could have a glimpse into a person's mind, especially when it came to the woman standing in front of him.

"Can we hunt?" She asked, pulling him from his thoughts.

He took in the dark hue of her eyes, the hesitation on her face. She'd slipped a few weeks ago and had been too nervous to hunt on her own since. "Sure. I was just going to suggest we go. Edward, do you want to come with us?"

"No, I hunted on the way home from school."

Carlisle nodded, watching as Esme stepped into her shoes and led him to the front door. He followed after her, breaking into a sprint as she did. They ran through the forest side by side, catching the scent of a herd of deer up north near a stream. He could hear the sound of their tongues lapping at the water, oblivious to the fact that they were coming. By the time they began to panic, it was too late. Esme pounced, taking a large doe down in a clean attack. He tackled another one a few feet away, draining it as her fangs plunged into her second kill.

After they finished their hunt, they disposed of the bodies together in comfortable silence. Esme made her way over to the stream, sitting down in front of it to rinse the blood from her hands.

"How was work?" She asked him, drying her clean hands on her dress.

He took a seat beside her, ignoring the fact that the mud would surely stain his work pants. "It was rather uneventful, to be honest."

"Isn't that a good thing in your line of work?"

He chuckled. "Yes, I suppose you're right. It makes for a very slow day, though. I would have much rather been at home."

"I'm afraid you would have been just as bored." She told him with a smile, nudging her shoulder against his.

"I doubt that. I could have watched you paint."

"Your day really must have been dull if watching paint dry sounds appealing." Esme teased, lifting her eyes to his.

He smiled, resisting the urge to tell her how much he loved to watch her paint. It captured his attention better than a good book lately. Instead, he reached out to wipe at a few drops of blood that clung to the corner of her mouth. The action stunned them both, Esme's eyes flicking to his and then to his retreating hand.

"I'm sorry."

She shook her head, shifting onto her knees as she reached out. "You have some too."

Carlisle remained still as she wiped the blood away with, her touch lingering. Her eyes met his again and she slowly moved her hand, flattening her palm against his cheek. She moved her thumb back and forth over his cheekbone as her gaze fell to his mouth.

He wasn't sure who learned forward first. It didn't matter, really, because the next thing he felt were her lips on his. Her hand slipped from his cheek, moving to wrap loosely around his neck. His hands cradled her cheeks, kissing her gently. She moaned softly, nipping at his bottom lip softly before pulling back with a smile.

He watched her, moving his hands down her to her shoulders, sliding his way down her arms until he could take her hands in his. She leaned forward to rest her forehead against his, closing her eyes.

Carlisle smiled, letting his own eyes slip closed as he nudged his nose against hers. "I've wanted to do that for some time now." He murmured.

"Why didn't you?" She asked him, her voice just as low.

"I didn't want to be presumptuous."

She lifted her head, quirking an eyebrow at him. "Presumptuous? I know for a fact that I have been less than subtle about my feelings."

He chuckled softly, dropping one of her hands to brush a rogue strand of her hair back behind her ear. "The last thing I wanted to do was frighten you by being too forward."

"You could never frighten me, Carlisle."

"I just..." He sighed. He ran his hand over her ponytail, reveling in the newfound ability to touch her.

Esme shifted closer. "I mean it. You're gentle. Kind." Her brow furrowed as she averted her eyes, looking down at their intertwined hands. She ran her thumb over his knuckles. "I can't believe you're not frightened of _me_. What I've done…"

"It was an accident." He reassured her again, like he'd been doing since he arrived home from burying the corpse deep in the woods.

She lifted their hands to her lips, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand. "You could never frighten me." Esme repeated.

She had, once again, rendered him speechless. He watched her, blown away by her tenderness. She knew all that he'd done, was well aware of his troubled past but she'd never held that against him. Her eyes had never held anything more than reverence when she gazed at him. He wondered if that was a reason he was reluctant to act on his feelings for her, the love he'd found in within her.

He was afraid to frighten her, yes, afraid to push her into something she didn't want. He had told himself that he did not want her to feel obligated to him, giving into his wants as a debt paid for her immortality. But watching her now, he knew that was a lie he'd fabricated to protect his own heart. She might not have been afraid of him but he was terrified of her. She held a power over him that she wasn't even aware of. She held his life in her hands, had been nurturing it in her palms since she woke up on their couch with forgiveness in her eyes.

For years, he'd wanted to die. He spent months trying to end his life in various different ways that proved to be useless. He'd searched and searched for _something_ that could kill a vampire and he'd unknowingly found it on a small farm in Ohio.

She could kill him in more ways than one and that frightened him. She could change her mind one day, deciding that she no longer forgave him for turning her into a monster. She could slip again and determine that she hated him just as much as she hated himself for not preventing the tragedy. She could leave their home, something he'd let her do if she desired, regardless of how much he and Edward would suffer. She could cause an accident that attracted the Volturi, could fall victim to a werewolf, a nomad vampire that found joy in killing their own kind.

Being with her like he was, with her hand in his, he felt foolish for allowing those fears to deny both of them what they'd wanted. She'd never hurt him, not intentionally anyway. She'd never hold this life over him, would never leave. Just as he'd done with Edward, he'd her how to defend herself against the very few creature that cause her harm.

Esme presses another kiss to his hand before gently setting it down, lifting her hand to grasp his tie. "What are you thinking about?"

"You." He replied automatically.

"Oh?"

"About how lucky I am to have found you."

"I'm the lucky one, darling."

His stomach fluttered at the tear of endearment, moving his fingers slowly through her hair.

"Should we head back to the house?" She asked after a moment. "Edward may be worried if we stay out too late."

"I think Edward will be more than happy to be free of my thoughts. I'm afraid you've occupied most of them as of late."

"Just as mine have been of you. Poor Edward has had to listen to us for months."

Carlisle nodded, running a hand down her back before pressed a kiss to her temple. "He'll be happy for us."

They sat together for some time, exchanging words and kisses, only moving when the sun began to rise and the sounds of neighbors moving about in the distance pulled their attention away from each other. She reached for his hand, swinging it between them as they made their way home at human speed.


End file.
